The Ballad Of Old Gregg
by honest iago
Summary: SLASH. Howard's having a few problems getting over his ordeal in Old Gregg's cave now he's safely back in London. Can Vince help?
1. Alternate Scene

**Disclaimer:** I own nowt. If I owned Howard Moon, you don't even want to know what I'd be doing with him right now.

**Rating:** PG 13. Hermaphrodite Mermen and erections. You have been warned! 

**Summary:** Just a little interlude between a damp and semi-naked Howard Moon and everyone's favourite fishy bastard.

**Notes:** I wasn't planning on posting this here, but there are so few entries in the **Boosh** section, I felt I had to. It was written for an 'Alternate Pairings' challenge (which basically means, not Howard/Vince slash).

I apologise if it doesn't seem to fit in with the episode, I haven't been able to watch Series Two for a while. Also, it kinda just jumps straight in…

_Italics :_ Howard's thoughts.

Criticism always welcome.

* * *

**  
**

**Old Gregg - Missing Scene**

Howard stumbled backwards, away from the strange fish-man before him.

This Old Gregg character was way too fixated on him, it was making him decidedly uncomfortable.

Nobody got fixated with Howard Moon. No women, or men - nobody was ever interested.

Until now.

Until this freakish fishy bastard who was advancing on him.

These thoughts were so alarming and depressing that Howard didn't notice the rock pool behind him until he was sat in it.

He blinked in surprise at suddenly being soaked, not to mention having a sore behind, and glared at the rock that had tripped him.

"Are you ok Howard?" Came that eerie voice.

Howard shivered and glared up at the fish-man.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He snapped. "Just a bit wet."

"I can get you dry Howard. I can start a fire."

"Fine, fine…" He tried to get to his feet, but the bottom of the pool was covered in some sort of green slime, and he slipped and splashed down into the water again. "Oww…"

"Here, let me help you Howard." Old Gregg came forward and reached out one webbed hand to him. Howard sighed, and took it.

Old Gregg hauled him to his feet with surprising strength, and held both of his hands as he clambered back onto the dry rock.

Howard was strongly aware of the romantic implications of holding hands with the creature, and he broke the contact as soon as possible, shoving his hands into his pockets, and then regretting it as they met with a damp squelch.

"Urghh…"

"I'll get you dry Howard, don't worry!" Old Gregg said quickly, and set about building a fire in a dry circle of rock. He began to burn some dry seaweed, which gave off a strong, salty aroma and filled the cave with smoke.

Howard shifted uncomfortably in his wet clothes and sat on the ground close to the fire, but Old Gregg shook his head, and brought him a deck-chair.

"Take off your wet clothes Howard, or you'll get sick."

"No, no, I'm fine like this, Gregg," He said hastily, then sneezed violently several times.

"Go on Howard, I don't want you to get sick. I'll get you a warm blanket." Gregg said imploringly, wandering away into the depths of his cave.

After a moments indecision, Howard quickly removed his shoes and socks, then his jacket, and laid them close to the fire.

He hesitated over the rest of his clothes.

On the one hand, he was very uncomfortable, and he did want to get dry as soon as possible.

But, on the other hand, he didn't much like the idea of fending off the advances of Old Gregg wearing nothing but a pair of underpants.

He thought for a moment.

_I can probably handle him. He's quite strong, but I'm much bigger and taller, and I'm a man of action…_

He stripped down to his underwear and huddled close to the fire, trying to dry his trousers.

He jumped when he noticed Old Gregg some distance away, watching him keenly, holding a big furry blanket in one hand, and a mug in the other.

Howard stared sullenly into the fire as the merman brought him the blanket, and handed him the mug.

"It's hot Baileys. It'll warm you up."

"Thanks." Howard muttered, avoiding Gregg's eyes at all costs.

The Baileys slid pleasingly down his throat and filled his belly with warmth.

To his relief, Old Gregg merely sat on his haunches next to him, and watched the fire.

They sat in silence for a while, until Howard finished his drink and put down the mug.

"D'you want more Baileys, Howard?"

"No thanks, Gregg."

Gregg stared at him shyly. "I like the way you say my name, Howard."

Howard silently cursed the romantic nature of the situation, and tried not to feel too much sympathy for the fish-man.

He realised too late that Gregg was drawing closer to him, and gasped as he felt a cold, scaly hand graze against his chest.

"Gregg, don't do that."

But Gregg's fingers were now circling his nipple – already stiff from the cold – and it wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation.

"Gregg, I've already told you, I don't feel that way about you."

Two cold-blooded hands on his chest now, making him shiver as the webbed fingers tweaked his nipples.

Howard's stomach was clenching painfully. He couldn't let this happen… Not without a fight… He shouldn't be giving in so easily.

There would be trouble if he let this happen.

_But I'm stuck here anyway…_

He flinched as Gregg's hands caressed his soft belly, and Gregg stopped abruptly, looking at his face.

"Your cheeks are all red, Howard."

Howard scowled defensively. "So… You're cheeks are all green. You don't hear me making a song and dance about it."

Gregg looked strangely pleased at this. "I think you do love me. You let me touch you, and I made your face turn red."

"No Gregg! I don't love you! I'm sorry, but there it is." He could feel himself flush even more at the ridiculousness of the situation he'd landed himself in.

Now would be the time to move away, to put his damp clothes back on, to try and get out of this cave…

Gregg pressed his hand between Howard's legs, and Howard half jumped out of his skin. As his damp crotch was pressed firmly into Gregg's palm, he noticed with a sinking feeling the beginnings of an erection.

Gregg kept his palm where it was, even as Howard tried to writhe away in alarm.

Howard felt a thick wave of embarrassment as his dick became harder, and Gregg looked at him with big, questioning eyes…

"That's not you… making me… You just took me by surprise, that's all…"

Gregg said nothing, just kept on staring at him.

Then, slowly, he slid his hand inside Howard's underpants.

"No! Gregg, don't." Howard scrambled backwards, his underpants twanging back against him as he pulled away from the webbed hand.

"Why not, Howard? You want me to."

Howard breathed hard. "No, I don't, Gregg…"

Gregg crawled after him, so Howard caught hold of his shoulders and held him still.

Gregg reciprocated the gesture, and with a sudden burst of strength, pushed Howard down onto his back on the cold rock, and rested on top of him lightly, holding him down by the shoulders.

Howard looked up at the fish-man.

He could struggle his way out of this, but then one of them would probably get hurt.

But Howard thought he was beginning to understand the way Old Gregg worked.

So instead, he lay still for a moment, trying not to get too excited by the way the fabric of Gregg's tutu was brushing against his erection.

When Gregg brought his face down, Howard swiftly leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss against the merman's fishy lips, determinedly ignoring any responses from other parts of his body.

Gregg was stunned for a moment, and Howard took the opportunity to slide out from under him.

"Too fast, Gregg…" He said gruffly, as he stood up and tried to somehow hide his erection under his hand.

Gregg didn't look disheartened. If fact, he was gazing up at him with scarily adoring eyes.

_Oh damn…_

_Why is it that the first person to show any interest in me in years has to be a psychotic green merman with gender issues?_

"Get dry Howard." Gregg ordered excitedly. "I'm gonna make you dinner. We can sit down and eat it together, nice and slow, really get to know each other."

Gregg scampered off again, presumably to prepare some food, although what kind of food Howard dreaded to think.

Howard wrapped the blanket around himself tightly and sat in the deck chair, willing his trousers to dry, and trying not to think about how easy it would have been to let Gregg have his way.

* * *


	2. Helsinki Syndrome

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own them. They own me.

**SUMMARY:** Howard's having a few problems getting over his ordeal in Old Gregg's cave now he's safely back in London. And wouldn't you know it? Vince, caring friend that he is, is trying to get to the root of it all. Will his clumsy interrogation and meagre knowledge of psycho-mumblings be enough to make Howard feel better?  
**  
WARNINGS:** Oh, lots. Bad language, oral sex, spanking, cruelty to cabinets... Fairly depraved. AND SLASH! Man will pleasure man. You have been warned!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I owe a life-debt to **maestro1123** for her excellent beta-ing on this installment.

* * *

**Chapter Two **

Vince was hovering around in Naboo's room as he did his packing, listening to the long set of instructions Naboo always left him with.

"And don't go in the loft, you know it only ends in trouble when you do. I've put a fresh padlock on the trapdoor, just in case you get the temptation…"

Vince smiled momentarily at the memory of what had happened the last time he and Howard had got into the loft, and lost track of what Naboo was saying.

He didn't really think all this lecturing was strictly necessary.

It wasn't as if he hadn't learnt his lesson from the last time he'd messed around with Naboo's stuff. Or the time before that…

After all, Naboo and Bollo were only going to be gone for a couple of days.

They were off to some shamanic festival in Woking.

Actually, it sounded a right laugh, but he knew from experience that Naboo would never let them come along to a shamanic event. He got enough flak about Howard and Vince from the Board of Shamen as it was.

"Vince, Vince! Are you listening to me? I said; let Howard take care of the plants, ok? He knows what to do with them, he's quite good with plants…"

Anyway, Naboo was taking all of his spell books and any even slightly magical artifacts he had lying around with him to the festival.

Vince had watched him pack them all into his suitcase.

He rolled his eyes. Naboo was clearly just being paranoid.

"Yeah, alright, I think we'll survive. Look, Naboo, I've been meaning to talk to you about Howard…"

"It's not another age crisis, is it? 'Cause you know I can't help him there."

"No, will you just listen, short crust? Don't you think he's been acting a bit weird since we got back from Black Lake?"

"Weird? How d'you mean, weird?"

"Well, he's been a bit quiet, don't you think? A bit distracted. And he's always falling asleep on the sofa. Even the new, improved, funkier sound doesn't seem to be cheering him up much."

Naboo looked blank. "How's any of that weird? You know what Howard's like. Are you sure you're not just paying too much attention to him?"

Vince shook his head in exasperation. "Yeah, right, thanks for your help Naboo…" he said sarcastically, and turned to leave the room.

Paying too much attention to him.

Naboo clearly just didn't understand the fine nuances of Howard's everyday patterns, the ebbing and flowing of his moods, like complex weather systems in their own right, the changing of the lunar seasons...

Vince turned back to Naboo abruptly. "Well, maybe I have been listening to too much of his psycho-mumbling lately. But I still think something's up with him."

"Well what do you want me to do about it? I'm leaving in," Naboo checked his watch, "Ten minutes. Look, just be gentle with him, alright? Don't wind him up like you usually do, if you're that concerned about him. Listen to some jazz LP's with him, or something."

Vince made a groaning sound, and Naboo looked as if he was losing his patience. "Just go and see if Bollo's ready yet, will you?"

Vince sauntered out of the room to check on Bollo. "Hey Bollo. You'd better get a move on, you know, Naboo's gonna go off the deep end with you if you're not ready soon."

Bollo just grunted and continued trying to choose which hat to wear to the festival. Vince gave him some of his fashion expertise for free.

"...All I'm saying is, something's up. I know him - no, not that one, the blue one, yeah, pass me that bandanna - I just know he's going to have a meltdown while you guys are away. What am I supposed to do then?"

"Bollo not know Howard as well as Vince does. But think Howard very lonely, just need lady friend."

Vince frowned.

"Go on, that looks good," he said, turning away from Bollo in annoyance.

"Bollo... Come on, we're leaving now." The tiny shaman marched up to the well-dressed gorilla and pulled him towards the stairs.

"Whatever trouble you two get yourselves into while we're away, you're on your own. DON'T call me, expecting me to sort it out, because it's not going to happen, OK?"

"Yeah, yeah, alright... Have fun guys..."

He waved goodbye to Naboo and Bollo from the top of the stairs as they tried to fit their suitcases on the magic carpet.

* * *

Howard was drifting in a weird, hazy world of bright neon lights and creamy beige liquid. 

Where was he?

His mind felt numb, like it was wrapped in candyfloss (and not the fresh kind like you got from a fairground, but the awful freeze-dried stuff you got in packets imported from America).

Then he was cold, flat on his back on a damp slab of stone, and there was someone else with him, but he couldn't see who it was.

His stomach was squirming unpleasantly.

He didn't like it here.

Shapes floated around in front of his face in vaguely obscene ways, and the hard rocky surface swayed beneath him like the deck of a ship.

Feeling nauseous, he tried to stand, and immediately found a sinewy pair of arms wrapped around him.

_Gregg._

The green face was on his, the fishy lips, the salty tongue in his mouth...

He was horrified, but he couldn't pull away, frozen to the spot.

He trembled as Gregg pressed closer to him and ran his hands lightly over his back, right down to give his arse a good squeeze.

Terrified, he found himself responding, his own hand creeping down to Gregg's tutu, sliding underneath, groping...

He woke with a start, and flinched again when he found that Vince was sat on the sofa right next to him, peering at him curiously.

He took steadying breaths and tried to calm himself, that deep sensation of dread still resting heavily on his stomach.

"Were you having a nightmare, or what! Must've been bad, you should've seen your face, all twisted up, like this - " Vince put on an ugly, squinty expression and twitched his lips bizarrely - "What was it all about?"

"Nothing, Vince, I can't really remember. Just a generic bad dream."

"A generic bad dream? Yeah, right! You look really awful."

"Thanks."

He couldn't begin to tell Vince what the dreams were about. For one thing, they disturbed him quite enough as it was, without having to talk about them. And for another, Vince didn't know that much about what had gone on in Old Gregg's cave, and Howard would prefer if it stayed that way. He didn't need Vince laughing about his troubles with Naboo and Bollo the moment they got back from their festival.

That was a point...

"So, Naboo and Bollo have gone, have they?"

"Yeah, they went about half an hour ago. They would've said goodbye, but you were zonked out. You've been asleep on this couch for hours! One minute we're discussing the possibilities of the underwater funk and I'm offering to make you a cup of tea, and the next thing I know, you're deep in the land of nod."

Howard winced slightly.

He couldn't seem to stop falling asleep during the day now.

Not since they'd come back from Black Lake, and the dreams had started, and he was afraid to go to sleep at night...

It was pretty pathetic, even for him.

Vince was staring at him again, concerned.

"Come on Howard, if you won't cheer up, at least talk to me, tell me what's wrong..."

"I'm fine, little man. Just getting tired out easily in my old age." He gave a wry smile.

Vince looked unconvinced.

"Come on. Let's do something." He said. "Let's go down the pub. You've not been out of the house in days."

"Neither have you!" Howard protested.

"Yeah, but that's a direct result of you not going out, isn't it?"

"...What?" This was clearly one of those times when Vince was using his own peculiar brand of logic.

"Come on, get dressed, and we'll go down the pub. I can ply you with alcohol and try to prise some sense out of you."

Howard groaned. "Can't I just stick with what I'm wearing now?"

"But you're wearing a ladies dressing gown and a pair of fingerless gloves."

"Vince... Are you blind? I'm wearing jeans and a loudly patterned yet understated shirt."

"Oh. Alright then. I'll just get my boots on..."

Half an hour later, Vince emerged from his room in a whole new outfit, nicely understated this time, what with the mauve drainpipe hipsters, the black collarless shirt, and the sequined skinny-knit scarf.

He was fully expecting Howard to give him a lecture about how he shouldn't say he was just going to get his boots on when he really meant he was going to re-evaluate his whole design aesthetic, but instead he found Howard asleep on the sofa. Again.

He woke him with a rough shake, and handed him his jacket, rolling his eyes at Howard's dazed, then slightly sheepish expression.

They headed for the pub on the corner of their road. It was a fairly tame place, and the staff and regulars were used to seeing the big burly moustache man with his sparkly little mis-matched girlfriend, and no longer gave them funny looks.

They sat at a rickety table and nursed their drinks, Vince sipping some sort of alcopop and Howard working on a pint of Guinness.  
Vince was trying to think of a new angle from which to come at Howard, one that he wouldn't be expecting, but he kept getting distracted by Naboo and Bollo, drifting around floating-heads style through his mind-tank.

_"Paying too much attention to him..."  
"Just need lady friend..."_

Vince frowned.

Naboo was always having a go at him about being too preoccupied with Howard. It had got worse since they'd left the zoo and moved in with him and Bollo. Vince had quickly taken to being more scornful and sarcastic towards Howard, to avoid Naboo's annoyingly perceptive glances.

_Honestly._ Vince couldn't even turn down an invite to one of Bollo's DJ-ing gigs to stay in and watch nature programmes with Howard without getting some serious eyeballing from Naboo. Even after he explained that, as ex-zookeepers, he and Howard had certain... Urges. Which, every now and again, needed to be soothed by the silky tones of David Attenborourgh.

"I thought you wanted to 'prise some sense' out of me, not just sit there in your own little world. You look like the one who needs to talk about something…"

"Hmmm?" Vince hummed, coming round, and noticing that Howard had finished off his pint. "I'll get you another one, shall I?"

He sauntered off to the bar, leaving Howard shaking his head, and then stealing a sip of Vince's bright yellow drink.

Vince bought all their drinks that night. He did genuinely want to get something out of him, Howard thought. Either through sheer curiosity, or through genuine concern for Howard – probably a bit of both – Vince was truly interested in getting him to open up.

Howard didn't want to have to explain something to Vince when he didn't even understand it himself. But he wasn't really used to Vince paying him so much undivided attention.  
He suspected that it might wear down his resolve before the evening was over.

_

* * *

_

_A FEW DRINKS LATER…_

* * *

"He told me he loved me… Over, and over… Like he really meant it." 

They had wandered home fairly early, Vince deciding he wanted to continue his ruthless interrogation of Howard in a place with fewer distractions. They were sat on the sofa in the living area, Howard with his long legs stretched out along the floor, and Vince next to him, cross-legged.  
Alcohol had served to loosen Howard's tongue a little, although neither of them was particularly worse for wear.

"Well, that's hardly that bad, is it? People tell me they love me all the time! Imagine if I'd been the one to get abducted? There's no way that fish would've let _me_ get away that easily."

Howard stared. He couldn't explain why, but somehow that was the worse thing Vince could possibly have said.

A sickly feeling came into his stomach as Vince failed to realise his offence, and carried on speaking.

Howard didn't know why he minded.

He didn't know why he couldn't stop dreaming about that cave.

And he couldn't account for the thick, cloying guilt that built up in him whenever he thought of Old Gregg.

He could imagine, in great detail, Gregg returning to their dinner table with some fresh Bailey's for them both, only to find Howard gone, having taken the Funk with him.

It was a painful image.

That bleak, eerie cave was all Gregg had left now. He would be all alone down there, maybe cursing Howard's name, hating him. Maybe still doing watercolours of him and waiting for him to return.

_You must love me._

_You must love me exactly as I love you._

He wished he could forget those words.

He wished he didn't keep on dreaming that he was still stuck in that cave with Gregg, fending off his advances over and over, until he just gave in and let the fish-man have his way.

And yet he couldn't help but feel choked by guilt and pity for the psychotic merman…

But what else could he have done?

What could be done for a pathetic creature like Old Gregg?

And worst of all, Howard knew that what he really meant was, what could be done for a pathetic creature like _him_?

Wasn't he a lonely misfit?

Wasn't he misunderstood?

Hadn't he obsessively pursued Mrs. Gideon for years, even though she blatantly wasn't interested in him?

"Howard? Howard?" Vince was giving him the wide-eyed stare. "Are you listening to me?"

"What? Yes. Sorry…"

"I said, what else did he do to you? You said he didn't hurt you… Did he try it on with you, then?" Vince paused to take in Howard's reaction. "He did, didn't he? Howard, he didn't…"

"No, no. It wasn't as bad as that. I mean, it probably could've been if I'd been down there much longer..."

"Why don't you tell me about what happened? Get it off your chest?"

Howard scowled. "Why, so you can tell Naboo and Bollo all about it when they get back, have a good laugh at me, as usual?"

Vince looked hurt. _Very_ hurt.

"You really think I'd tell them about something this private? Something that bothers you this much?" Vince said in a quiet voice.

Howard looked away and sighed. He just _knew,_ he would have to tell him now.

"Fine. Fine…" he collected his thoughts for a minute. "So there I am. In the semi-darkness of this damp, awful cave. This merman's telling me he loves me, over and over – in song format and everything. He tells me that I have to love him back just the same, and he's already showed me the mangled corpse of this other fisherman who wouldn't love him back, so I'm pretty alarmed. I keep on backing away from him, and in the end I fall into this rock pool and get soaked, and he has to pull me out." He paused to check that Vince was still listening, and was surprised to see a rare look of concentration on his friend's face.

"_Go on_."

"Well, then he lights a fire and sits me next to it and tells me to take off my wet clothes..." He closed his eyes in embarrassment. He was sure he'd regret telling Vince the story. "Now, I know what you're thinking. Don't think that. It was really horrible and cold down there, alright?"

"So you took off your clothes?" Vince encouraged in a small voice. He didn't seem to be laughing at him. Yet.

"Yeah, that's right, I got down to just my underwear, then - "

"When you say underwear, was it just underpants, or did you have a vest on as well?" Vince asked, with a nonchalant air.

Howard paused, taken aback by this interruption. "Uh, just my underpants. I wanted to dry my clothes off by the fire, as quickly as possible."

He felt a little unnerved by the way Vince seemed to be giving this all of his attention, closing his eyes and leaning back his head as he listened, exactly as though he was picturing the scene.

Howard swallowed. "Anyway, he came over and put his hands on me, on my body… I tried to scramble away from him, but I wasn't really in the best position to fight him off… He was all over me - " (he shuddered slightly at the memory) " – even on top of me, overpowering me… I had to _kiss him_, Vince… Just to shock him so I could get away…" He trailed off in confusion.

"And then?" Vince's voice was higher than was normal for him.

Howard coughed, before rushing the words out. "And then I pulled away from him and told him enough was enough. He tried to pin me down, but I was having none of it…"

Vince gave him the wide-eyed stare again.

Somehow, it seemed more of an anti-climax now than it had at the time…

"Alright!" Howard cried, in frustration, "I know, I know, I'm pathetic. I can't even make it with a transsexual sea monster!"

The outburst surprised him as much as it did Vince.  
He flushed under the younger man's gaze and crossed his arms sullenly.

"I think you were pretty brave, actually," Vince said quietly, at last. "You know, maybe I was wrong. Maybe Old Gregg wouldn't have fallen in love with just anyone the way he did with you."

"You're right. I should've bloody stayed there with him. We're two peas in a pod, me and Gregg. Both lonely, pathetic outcasts…"

There was a resigned bitterness to his voice that stung Vince.  
"I didn't mean it like that," he said, tentatively. "Come on, you're nothing like that freak. You're not a murderer, for one thing. You wouldn't hurt a fly. You're a gentle giant."

Howard snorted.

"…And you don't live in a cave. You live in a nice flat - with me! And you have friends…"

"What, a shaman who puts up with me out of pity and an ape who doesn't even like me?"  
He was starting to really depress himself now…

"Oh come on, Howard! Those are just friendly jibes from Bollo, he likes you really! And Naboo totally respects you. You know what he said to me before he left? He said, _'Let Howard take care of the plants.'_ You see? He trusts you much more than he trusts me…"

Vince realised his words weren't really having the desired effect.

Howard was just looking at the floor, his face dejected, disappearing back inside the inky realms of his own mind.  
_Not a healthy place for him to be right now,_ Vince thought.

"Come on, Howard, you've got me. You've got our little double-act. You could never be as lonely and pathetic as old Gregg, not while you still have me as your best friend!"

Vince racked his brains. _Dammit._ Nothing ever taxed his poor mind half so much as trying to figure Howard out…

"Howard, is this about you… being lonely? I mean, you… wanting a girlfriend, because you think if you don't get one, you'll turn out like Old Gregg someday?"

Howard didn't answer, but Vince felt sure he was onto something.

This situation required delicacy. Howard would be feeling… _humiliated._ Vince saw that he had to tread very carefully.

"You feel that… That you can't do any better than Old Gregg? That he might have been your only hope of finding a partner? Is that why you can't stop thinking about it?"

A long pause. Then… "Partly."

Vince felt suddenly angry – at least, it was something like anger.  
"Jesus Christ, Howard. I'd sleep with you before I let that fishy bastard lay another hand on you." He didn't know where that'd come from. There were so many things in his brain all trying to force themselves out at once, those words had just materialised out of nowhere.

At least he had Howard's attention now; his sad face framed with wild strands of hair was turned his way, brown eyes staring at him.

"Really." Vince said sombrely, and then kicked himself. He'd meant to say something like; _'Figuritively speaking, of course…'_ He cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say is, of course you could do better than some crazed merman, you barmy clamp. You really don't have any self-esteem at all, do you? That's your only problem Howard. Lack of self-esteem." He was getting into the swing of this psycho-mumbling now, "I mean, you might act a bit of an idiot sometimes, but you're nice, and you're kind… That's the sort of stuff that actually matters. And you're stupidly tall – girls like that, they like big, tall, strong men like you, at least some do, I think… And your face is nice, really nice – _actually_ good-looking, when you're not frowning or being insane. Even your moustache kind of works because of your smile - you've got a great smile, even if you don't use it very often…" Vince was losing his thread, somewhat. What was he trying to say again? "…So you see? You've got loads of good qualities… If you weren't so self-conscious, you could easily get a girlfriend."

Howard was still staring at him. He didn't look sad anymore, he looked curious and surprised.  
Vince was glad that he'd managed to stop Howard's depression from spiralling completely out of control… But he felt a little awkward himself now. It was suddenly too hot in here, even though the window was open to let in the breeze from outside. He kicked his heels childishly against the bottom of the sofa.

He'd had to say all that stuff, Howard had needed cheering up. Besides, it was the truth. It wasn't as though he'd said anything embarrassing…  
And so what if he liked Howard? That was nothing to be ashamed of, they were good friends, and Naboo wasn't even here to give him a sharp look and make him feel like a daft schoolboy just for being nice. Naboo had even _told_ him to be nice to Howard before he'd left.

_And it wasn't as if he'd had to bite his tongue to keep from saying a few more nice things about Howard, things that involved how it made him feel to think of Howard sat in that merman's cave with no clothes on, huddled by the fire… And how the picture of the scene in his head was interesting enough to make him want to imagine it from every angle, scrutinising Howard's body with horrified fascination… And how it made him want to look closely at Howard's body right now as he sat next to him on the sofa…  
And how he really would prefer that Howard was with him, rather than thinking that a transsexual sea monster was the best he could possibly do romantically..._

Vince gulped. _Definitely too hot in here…_

Howard, meanwhile, was puzzled by Vince's behaviour, and even more puzzled by the strange swimming sensation in his abdomen. He felt he should say something, anything, to cut through the tension that was hanging in the air.

"…Vince. Thanks for listening. You were right, I did need to talk about it."

He watched Vince bite down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was trying to keep himself from saying something.

He simply waited. He felt sure Vince wouldn't be able to hold it in for long.

"Howard. Maybe… Maybe you need to do more than just talk about it…"

_Swimming, swimming… His insides were swimming…_

And against his better judgement - or any kind of judgement - Howard was leaning closer to Vince now, bringing their faces in line.

Vince turned his head, very slowly, his pupils doubling in size as he took in Howard's proximity.  
It was one of those impossibly awkward moments, and it was burning Howard from the inside out.  
Too late to back out now, he thought, might as well just do it...

He pushed his lips clumsily forward onto Vince's. His mouth was far too dry for this... Still, he gave the softest, most tender kiss he could possibly muster at short notice, and he heard Vince's sharp intake of breath.

He drew back, fearing the worst. He'd got it all wrong, and Vince would surely never let him live this one down...

But Vince wasn't laughing. Nor did he look disgusted. Instead, he was panting and dishevelled, like the heroine on the front cover of a Mills & Boon novel.  
Vince stared up at him for another second. Then he lunged forward, knocking the breath out of him and ramming his tongue down his throat.  
He was cupping Howard's face with his hands and leaning heavily on him, pushing him back into the sofa cushions as they kissed.

Howard had absolutely no idea what was going on here.

Except that Vince's tongue was exploring his mouth, and his hands were delving down his back, pulling up his shirt a bit and sweeping over his skin.

He pulled back again to give Vince a look of astonishment and confusion.

"What!" Vince exclaimed breathlessly, "You kissed me first, remember? So don't look at me like that!"

Howard frowned. "Yeah? Well… _Shut up_…"

But Vince was already leaning in again.

This time, Howard was a little more prepared, and he swept his own tongue around Vince's mouth, thrusting it deeper, giving back as good as he got.

As their tongues tangled, and their breath and lips and saliva all seemed to mingle, it occurred to Howard that he was enjoying this.

_Really_ enjoying it.

In a way you weren't supposed to enjoy kissing your best mate when you were both supposedly straight men.

These troubling thoughts went on hold when Vince suddenly thrust his hands down the back of Howard's trousers.

He sat bolt upright as if he'd been shot, and let out a very un-manly cry of alarm.

Vince couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Do you want this to go any further, or what?" Howard scowled.

Vince sobered up immediately. "Sorry Howard…"

Then he sprang forward again and slipped his hands around Howard's lower back, before carefully sliding them right down inside his underwear.

Howard gave a strangled cry, but stayed as still as he could as Vince's fingers keenly explored his flesh.

Vince felt-up each of his buttocks thoroughly, then ran his index finger lightly down his arse crack to rest oh-so-gently at Howard's most private place.

Howard couldn't believe the surge of feeling that shivered its way through him from that point of contact. His dick leapt to attention immediately, and his entire mid-section was on fire.

Vince left the finger where it was, and kissed him more gently now, whispering something incoherent against his mouth.

The finger pressed a little more firmly against his opening, and he couldn't help but jump, which only made the sensations more intense.

Now his dick had swollen enough to press painfully into the front of his trousers, straining against layers of material.

The moment he gave an outward indication of this discomfort, Vince pounced on it.

He brought his hands round to the front, unbuttoning the trousers swiftly and watching Howard's flushed face as he tugged them down over his shapely thighs.

Then came the stretchy grey underpants. Vince tugged them more slowly, and with baited breath, as Howard squirmed with embarrassment.

He got a shock as he felt the chilled air meet his now very erect penis head-on.

Howard took a deep breath, and somehow found himself saying;

"What the hell are we doing here, little man?"

Vince looked up in plain annoyance at the interruption.

"I'm finishing off what Old Gregg started, you dipstick…"

Howard was about to respond to that remark when Vince silenced him by licking all around his foreskin, pushing it down with his mouth, then letting it slide back again.  
He spread Howard's legs as wide as they would go, so he could kneel on the floor between them.

Howard tensed in anticipation, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

Vince took his time, fingers lightly tracing patterns along the insides of Howard's thighs, before dipping his head to lick at the soft flap of skin underneath his balls.

"Ahhhh… _Ahhggg!_" Howard meant to stay quiet, he really did, but how could he when Vince's tongue was stroking somewhere no one had ever stroked before?

Now that tongue trailed over the underside of his shaft, ending with Vince placing a soft kiss on the swollen head.

But that was where the gentle part ended.

Vince suddenly took him into his mouth, as far as he could, until the tip hit the back of his throat, and he sucked until he gagged.

Howard tried to pull away, but Vince kept the tip loosely between his lips as he swallowed and got his breath back. He moved his lips, his softly grazing teeth, his swirling tongue, up and down Howard's shaft, encouraging him to thrust his hips in time with him.

Howard was lost in sensations he couldn't remember ever feeling before. This was totally overwhelming. His head was thrown back, he didn't dare open his mouth for fear he'd let out sounds and words that were best reserved for films that came from under the counter.

He felt himself hit the back of Vince's throat again, and Vince tried to swallow around him.

Feeling as though he'd entered the fifth dimension, Howard vaguely recognised the white-hot searing in his loins, and he clutched at the sofa cushions, thrusting up painfully, unable to help himself.

Vince kept working with his obliging mouth, even as he tasted the first wave pumping out.

He gagged again, but kept on sucking, alternating it with swallowing, breathing deeply through his nose, concentrating…

Howard was gasping desperately and stifling cries as he came, and Vince just kept drinking him down until he was completely spent.

"_Ahhh_…" Howard whimpered as Vince released him.

Vince licked his lips, savouring the salty taste.

Howard was spread out on the couch just trying to catch his breath for ten whole minutes. He didn't trust himself to try to stand.

Vince took the opportunity to ogle Howard for a little while, then went to the sink to get a drink of water.

When he came back, Howard had already put himself away, fastening up his trousers hastily.

Vince knew he should probably say something _now_.

Before it all became too damn awkward and they ended up leaving it there and never talking about it again.

He tried to think of a way he could say_ 'I, too, am enormously turned on. Do you think you could do something about it, please?'_ without sounding too stupid. Then he remembered that this was only Howard, and that he didn't really care what he sounded like.

He stood in front of the couch with his hands on his hips, and stared at the slumped figure that was Howard, until, at length, he looked up and met his gaze.

"What about me?" Vince asked quietly, with a dark look in his large eyes.

Howard's body was moving before his brain had had the chance to react, as if it'd been anticipating this.

Barely aware of what he was doing, he stood and walked over to Vince, raising one of his hands to gently grasp his still-perfect hair. Vince closed his eyes angelically, and leaned his head into Howard's soft touch.  
_So docile and trusting…_ Howard thought in fascination.  
And he couldn't quite help what he did next. He didn't know where the urge was coming from. Some foreign part of his mind he hardly ever listened to…

He tightened his fist in Vince's glossy hair, and he pulled him by it, gently, but with enough urgency to alarm Vince, to the waist-high cabinet at the side of the room.  
He hesitated for a second, but he knew he couldn't lose his momentum now…  
He bent Vince's pliant form over the top of the cabinet with an authoritative firmness he hadn't known he possessed.

Vince gasped in shock as he felt Howard hold his head down with one hand.

He moved his other arm back and fixed his palm and fingers into a stiff curve.

Then in one swift movement, he brought his hand down with a sharp slap on Vince's behind.

Vince gasped again, and jerked his hips violently into the side of the cabinet.

Howard blinked in astonishment. Was he really doing this? His hand was already raised again, and he wondered nervously if he should continue.

Then Vince made a whimpering, pleading noise in the back of his throat, and Howard's decision had been made for him.

A flood of adrenalin coursed through his veins, and he struck again and again, excited by the feeling of his large hand connecting solidly with the softness of Vince's arse.

With each strike Vince squirmed under his grasp, and gripped the corners of the cabinet harder with white-knuckled hands.

It thrilled Howard to have Vince in his power like this.

All the times he'd ever felt frustrated with the younger man came back to him now in a blinding rush.

All of the pent-up rage was making him tremble, though he barely noticed, as he spanked Vince again.

Now his fingers were reaching out and fumbling desperately with the fastenings of Vince's ridiculously skin-tight jeans.

He meticulously undid each fly button, then yanked both layers of fabric down around Vince's skinny thighs, and briefly groped at Vince's straining erection, which seemed to grow in his hand. A strange excitement coursed through him as he allowed himself to glance down at Vince's naked behind.

Determined to stay in control, Howard pushed Vince's lithe body up against the wooden cabinet even more firmly, listening to the younger man's groan of pain and pleasure.

And he went on spanking, driving his hand harder and harder against Vince's firm, round buttocks.

"Oh god! _Howard!_ Oh god, oh god, oh god…" Vince was bucking his hips violently into the cabinet over and over now, trying to match Howard's strokes, "_Oh Jesus_…"

Howard called upon all the memories he had of Vince angering him.

He thought of Vince laughing at his moustache, Vince flirting with Mrs. Gideon, Vince forcing him to wear chains and a loincloth… How he never took him seriously…

He needed these thoughts to keep him going. They gave him all the energy he needed to keep on beating Vince's arse.

The little pimp deserved to be punished.

_Even if he was enjoying it._

Even if he was quivering and panting and writhing beneath Howard's fingertips…

_Ohhhhh…_

This was turning him on far too much.

If Vince hadn't just sucked him dry he'd have the most enormous hard-on right now…

"Howard, Howard, Howard…" Vince was panting out between gasps.

Howard said nothing. He'd forgotten how to speak. He just grit his teeth and spanked harder.

_God it felt good to let all this aggression out…_

Vince suddenly went rigid, his spine arched and his hips stilled.

Howard listened to the odd _'thunk, thunk, thunk,'_ sound of Vince's cum hitting the side of the cabinet at considerable speed. He slowly dropped his stinging palm to his side, noticing how ragged his own breathing was.

Taking a step back, he glanced at Vince's ridiculous hunched form, his pants resting just above his knees, his bare arse red raw, practically glowing.

He felt a grim, twisted satisfaction that made his balls ache.

He watched with interest as Vince peeled himself off the side of the cabinet and did a bizarre John Wayne-style shuffle over to the bathroom with his pants still around his knees.

When Vince hobbled out of the bathroom a few minutes later he found Howard still staring at the alarming quantity of thick spunk spattered all over the side of the cabinet.

They'd have to make sure that was cleaned up before Naboo saw it…

He gave Howard a sheepish smile.

"Uh, I'd been backed up for some time…"

"I'll get a cloth, or something…" was all Howard could say.

After the offending spunk had been cleaned away, and the kettle boiled, they found themselves sat back on the couch with cups of tea in their hands, in a slight daze.

Howard didn't think it could be possible that what had just happened had really just happened.  
Just thinking about it now was making his face and neck flush with colour.

He kept looking side-on at Vince for some sign that the events of the past hour had been a strange hallucination.

"You alright, Howard?" Vince asked, finally.

"_What?_ Uh, yeah… I mean, no, not really…"

Vince looked concerned. "What's up?"

Howard threw him a look of utter disbelief.

His hallucination theory was seeming more likely by the second.

But then, why was his hand still stinging?

"What the fuck do you think, little man?"

Vince grinned. "Oh, you mean all that?" He made an obscene gesture, which seemed to turn mid-way through from a blow-job into a spanking.

Howard chose not to mimic the gesture. "Yeah, _that_."

He was pleased to see that Vince at least had the decency to redden a little.

Vince gave a cheeky little laugh. "It was alright, wasn't it?"

Howard gaped, but then couldn't quite help himself…

"Alright? _Alright?_ You practically re-varnished the cabinet."

"Ok, ok! It was better than alright." Vince admitted with another grin. "Actually, it was a bit of a fantasy of mine, that…" he trailed off, embarrassed.

"What, being spanked?"

"Yeah… Well. Being spanked by you." Vince looked awkward.

Howard didn't know if he could cope with all this.

"You've actually fantasised about _me_… About me spanking you?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"…Why?" _Why would anyone fantasise about him?_

Vince ducked his head. "Well… You know when we were back at the zoo? Whenever I was showing out, or something, you always used to tell me that you'd come at me, like a bullet or a buzzard - to keep me in line, you know. So one day I got to thinking, what would happen if you really did come at me? I was a bit surprised when it turned into… _that_ sort of thing. But then the idea just, sort of, wouldn't go away…"

Howard was amazed.

That Vince had thought about him that way... Even all that time ago...

The very idea was making his cock twitch.

He looked at his friend's horribly red face.

He couldn't believe that Vince had just told him all that stupidly private information. It made him feel warm, somewhere deep in his stomach.

He cleared his throat.

"Well… If you ever wanted me to… I could, you know… Come at you again, sometime…" His heart was in his mouth for some reason. He could practically taste it.

Vince looked surprised for a moment. Then he began to smile.

"Really? You would… You're ok with it?"

_Ok with it?_

Hell no, he wasn't ok with it.

He'd spent the last hour acting out some kinky sexual fantasy with his totally platonic best friend of over ten years.

He was far from ok. 'Ok' didn't even enter into it.

All Howard knew was that the thought of not experiencing those – and maybe even _more_ – wild, kinky, erotic sensations with Vince again in the near future was suddenly unbearable.

"Um, yeah, I think so."

"Oh. Ok. Cool!"

They both stared ahead of them in silence for a few moments. Then they raised their mugs up to their mouths at the same time, and drank, to hide their smiles.

_

* * *

_


End file.
